


Beneath it All

by LadyAnna (InnanaZoa)



Category: Norse Religion & Lore, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, X-Men (Movies), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - X-Men Fusion, Asgard, Avengers vs X-men, Crossover Pairings, Danger, F/M, Jotun!Loki, Jotunn | Frost Giant, Mischief, Partnership, Past Abuse, Post X-Men: First Class, Post-Avengers Asgard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:19:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3866755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InnanaZoa/pseuds/LadyAnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They share a skin, the two of them, and an abuse of old that no one seemed to understand save for each other. He found her fighting a bloodthirsty war against her own people and she found him fighting a war he never wanted to lead. They found solace in each other when all others looked upon them in distain; now they have each other and what stories of mischief they will weave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beneath it All

**Author's Note:**

> This was rattling around in my mind. For now it's a one-shot unless enough people take interest in this pairing, then it might turn into something more. 
> 
> But either way, enjoy!

“Thank you,” she said, sipping from the proffered chalice, the cool wine sliding deliciously down her throat. The servant nodded his head, his long nosed mask almost hitting the tray of drinks as he back away from her.

She looked beyond him to the great room at large, the sheer golden drapes covering every column, heavy set chairs and chaise lounges that lined the walls were dotted with people in masks and a variety of gowns, armor, tunics, and suits. Servants bustled around with tray of food and liquor, people mingled freely near the fountain to her left, and right before her guests engaged in stiff formal dancing.

A delicate snort escaped her pained lips as she began to roam the room, searching for her prey. Asgard as always amused her in their frivolities, they seemed to have a reason for a celebration almost every night, normal she ignored them. However tonight she felt the need to attend, she supposed it would be rude to ignore her paramour’s own name day.

The masquerade ball was his idea, and as way to make the night significantly more interesting they’d made a wager– both would arrive in disguise and the first to find the other won, though what they won would be decided upon the victory.

She wrinkled her nose at the damp bodies passing by her, so many people packed into this hall had them lot of them sweating like mad. She continued to scan the room for him.

Her first instinct was to search out the most ostentatious outfit she laid eyes on as his ego could fill a room all by himself, yet she felt as though he would make it more difficult than that for her and instead she looked for those dressed most plainly.

A swish of a black cape caught her attention from the corner of her eye, but when she turned to follow its path, she could not find its owner.

She meandered around the room and after consuming two glasses of the wine and still finding neither hide nor hair of him, she began to wonder if Loki was even in this part of the palace at all. Oh, it would be so like him to sneak away from these gatherings, he hated them more than she did.

She’d only come to Asgard a century ago­–she thanked her mutation for her extended lifetime­– and in those years she had seen Loki at only a handful of feasts and when he came he stayed only long enough to schmooze any courtiers and delegates before taking his leave and slithering away.

It’s not as though she adored these gatherings, Asgard, Earth, it was all the same; drinking, dancing, fornicating in alcoves and curtains they believed covered them, gossip galore. It was all so tedious, but when she was young, it was an escape, a way to test her ability where no one would remember her, and later it was how she coaxed information out of weak-minded men.

On those missions, her… talent… was a gift instead of a curse; scorned and beaten as she was in her youth she took to hiding that side of herself from the view of regular humans. Perhaps that is why she was drawn to Loki in the first place, their equal distaste for humans had lead them to the same battle ground on Earth, fighting for what they deemed was theirs all along.

Another flash of black had her cutting across the hall of dancers, the long multicolored feathers of her dress flying out behind her–damn the heels­– she reached the column the figure ducked behind and–

Found a blood red tulip resting in a new chalice of wine. A laugh escaped her lips as she switched out her glasses, tucking the flower into the side of her mask.

_Oh darling, how you do know me well. But I will come out victorious._

She turned back to the room.

 _This would be more of a challenge than I anticipated_ , she thought as she moved to face the other side of the room and almost walked right into someone. Her step stuttered and for a moment she feared that she would toss her drink into the crowd until a black-gloved hand shot out and caught her around the waist.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s no mind, little peacock,” a silky voice answered in return. A wry smile appeared behind her feathered mask as she looked up to face her savior.

She is met with deep green eyes behind a mask of black twisted metal that covered the whole upper half of his face, matching the wickedly pointed crown adorning his head, blonde curls contrasting starkly with his dark jewels; his whole ensemble seemed to be made almost entirely of black from his cloak and armor to his boots, with streaks of gold tossed in swirling in his cravat, on the edges of his mask, decorating his chest plate. It was quite an intimidating view she had to admit, but then again, her dark prince was always a striking figure, even with the ridiculous blonde hair. 

“ _Minn_ _Buðlungr_ ,” she said coyly and stepped into him, placing a hand on his armored chest.

It had only took one magical sweep of Loki’s hand back when they first met for her to be blessed with knowledge of his tongue and any other she encountered, the All-Tongue, he’d called the ability.

He smirked at her from behind his mask.

“Did you truly think simply changing your hair would make me unable to find you?” She asked sweetly as finished off her third glass of wine.

“Of course not, love,” Loki replied smoothly and with a snap his hair was once again black, but remained a mess of unruly curls atop his head. She could not say the style didn’t suit him quite nicely, especially with the crown.

“But that does not mean I could not trick you in other ways,” a voice said from behind her. Quick as lightening she turned on her heel only to find herself facing Loki again, smirk alight with mischief; his hands snaked around her waist and she watched the double he’d conjured behind her vanish in a shower of green sparks.

“Damn, I suppose the win goes to you then,” she threaded her hand through on of the straps across his chest, “this time.”

He laughed as her eyes narrowed in playful threat, his gaze roamed over her, taking in her dark brunette tresses and her feathered peacock dress and mask. Loki tugged playful at a lose curl.

Music swelled behind them and she let him take her glass and lead them to the spacious center of the room to dance.

“Are you not going to claim your prize?” She questioned with a grin as the music began and they glided into step with each other.

“I shall later my little peacock,” Loki responded spinning her around.

His lips pressed against her ear, “But I would much to have you lain out upon my bed in a decidedly different form than this one.”

The gravel in his tone made her pulse quicken.

“Perhaps, _if…_ you keep your newest adornment,” she said, tracing the pointed tips of his metal crown. His eyes darkened with desire, she knew just how much he loved to play to his title.

“Well, if only because you asked so nicely,” he replied.

She locked her eyes onto his as she shifted in the middle of the dance. Her hair returned to the bright red she was born with; her golden skin flicked back like the scales of a snake and settled once again in a startling shade of cobalt blue, darker stones of a midnight shade appeared on her exposed shoulders and traveled down what he could see of her chest and arms.

“Mmm,” he murmured in approval even as they heard the sharp intakes of breath from the dancers around them. Yet they cared not, it was an old prejudice, one they’d taken to ignore after years of letting it bother them.

“Will you not show me the same courtesy?” she asked of him.

He laughed, deep and rich; truly he had chose well in his paramour, she was his partner in so many ways, in mischief, in battle, in bed, in mind.

Even her lifespan was of no consequence, with a few magical alterations he’d made a century ago when he brought her to Asgard to keep her from the mutant rebellion that she had grown tired of fighting,­ though her abilities would keep her from ever outwardly aging.

He knew what it felt to keep one’s true skin from the world, and he wished for her to never be force to do so again, not while he was king. She understood him in ways no one else could, and though he would not call it love, as she sometimes teased, he would be daft to ignore the way she made his heart stutter every so often.

Loki brought his lips down for a, much too chaste for her liking, kiss; she pouted when he did not engage further but acquiesced to her request anyways.

A wicked smile graced her lips as she felt his skin cool and her eyes glimmered as the blue of his true form took over, almost the same shade as her own yet slightly darker, and decidedly more masculine with dark blue ridges he’d once named as house lines that traced across his face, the only exposed skin he had. Though she knew those ridges covered the entirety of his body, which she found both beautiful and decidedly arousing.

“Anything for you, darling,” Loki said.

“A tempting offer, shall we see how much truth it holds?” She countered, letting her hand trail along his jaw and against his lips. He nipped at her finger and grinned dangerously at her, hunger burning in his crimson eyes; she shuttered in anticipation, that look would drive her mad.

“Oh _Mystique_ , you do know how much I love a challenge.”


End file.
